


Albedo

by Fernloch



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst, Experimentation, Family, Gen, Grief, split personality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-29 19:31:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16750249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fernloch/pseuds/Fernloch
Summary: He had ended up dragging himself to the nearest phone box to call Carla’s landline, just managing to speak between broken sobs and mutter: “something’s wrong, Carla, something’s wrong.”Her voice had been surprisingly soft when she replied through the crackle of the telephone line.“I know, Thomas. I know.”OrThe story of Thomas Snow's slow transformation into Icicle.





	Albedo

Thomas had never expected things to go so wrong.

They had been so happy once upon a time – Carla and himself had been able to see eye-to-eye, and Caitlin was their pride and joy.

They had been a family, once, albeit one where the mother preferred to bury herself in her work and forget that her husband and child existed.

They had still been a family, none the less.

They had been a family.

Until everything had went wrong.

\------

It had started out with a vague tremor in his hand.

It wouldn’t happen all the time – just now and again, a slight tremor. It was a mild annoyance, if anything, until it got worse. The tremor grew into twitching and his hand would freeze up, but Thomas continually brushed it off, saying that it was likely something such as the early onset of arthritis.

After that he found his left leg beginning to falter, and where he usually walked he now had to limp instead, sometimes barely making it up the stairs without his leg giving in.

The real shock came when he found that he couldn’t pick his daughter up any more. She was only nine, and he was used to giving her constant piggy backs and sitting her on his shoulders so she could be closer to the stars – but now he found that he would falter and say that perhaps she should climb up to the top of the treehouse instead.

He had continued to ignore the signs, coping and working through them instead of seeking out a solution. It wasn’t until one day when his left hand decided to give up on him, he had dropped his coffee, and subsequently broken down that he knew for definite that something was wrong. He had ended up dragging himself to the nearest phone box to call Carla’s landline, just managing to speak between broken sobs and mutter: “something’s wrong, Carla, something’s wrong.”

Her voice had been surprisingly soft when she replied through the crackle of the telephone line.

_“I know, Thomas. I know.”_

\------

Weeks after that he found himself forcibly lying on his side, curled up, with a needle being pushed into his spine.

After then had lay there in a mind-numbing silence, with a headache already building behind his eyes, only disturbed by the occasional nurse asking if he felt okay.

He had only waited for three hours before the results from the numerous tests had been compiled; he later learned that Carla had pulled some strings and had deemed the case to be an emergency.

He sat there and listened as the doctor leaned in and said “Dr Snow, have you ever heard of ALS?” – the rest of the doctor’s words had gone unheard as his brain started processing everything he could recall about the condition.

_ALS, amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, progressive neurodegenerative disease that affects nerve cells in the brain and spinal cord, typical life expectancy is a further three to five years, paralysis is typical, ventilation support commonly needed-_

He had already begun to spiral when one word spoken by the doctor snapped him out of it. He had wrenched his head up then, staring directly at the doctor, the logic of processing washing away and leaving in its wake a striking sense of fear. He dreaded asking the doctor to repeat what they had said, but he managed to stammer it out.

“I was saying, Dr Snow, that the results here – unfortunately they display the signs of familial ALS. It could be genetically inherited.”

\------

Carla had managed to drag him home after that but he didn’t know what to do, he didn’t know how to process this – and so he became completely numb. Carla did what she always did when faced with adversity and threw herself into her work, neglecting to come home until the middle of the night and seemingly forgetting that her family existed. Thomas would have continued to exist in that state of numbness if it wasn’t for one person.

Caity.

The young girl was too smart for her own good, and she wouldn’t take “nothing’s wrong” as an answer when she asked what was going on. Eventually Thomas sat her down next to him and explained everything, that “dad’s not very well, Caity, there’s this condition…” – and Caitlin, being inquisitive as always, had demanded to know what it was, and what would happen, and if the doctors could fix it.

He hadn’t replied to her final question until he saw the look of pain in young Caitlin’s eyes, and he had smiled sadly and merely said “they can try” in response.

When Caitlin had declared that doctors trying wasn’t good enough and proceeded to burst into tears in front of him, he decided that she was right.

He wasn’t going to leave the matter to the hospital.

He was going to try as well.

For her.

\------

Thomas started off conducting his experiments in secret.

Carla had her suspicions, but she never questioned him – genetic engineering was highly controversial, after all, and if there was one thing she knew how to do it was how to protect her family from afar.

He delved into genetics and cryogenics, searching for a way to freeze and undo the degradation.

Everything was experimental, of course, but he understood the risks. He had to do this for Caity, he had to try his hardest – he couldn’t let his daughter grow up without a dad. He couldn’t put her through the pain of watching him suffer, he couldn’t put her through the grief of watching him fade away.  

Every time that Caitlin caught him stumbling over his own feet or failing to grasp the handle of his coffee cup it drove him onwards.

_You can’t suffer you’ll make her suffer, you can’t suffer you’ll make her suffer-_

And even as the experiments became more intense and ridiculously experimental, he didn’t care.

He didn’t care until one day he woke up and when he looked in the mirror found piercing blue eyes staring back from his reflection, that was.

\------

Carla had found out about the experiments soon after, having questioned him as to where he kept disappearing to and leading him into a heated argument until she was met by the same piercing blue eyes. She had snapped at him then, knowing that something was desperately and dangerously wrong. Typically Thomas was docile, opting to back down and explain things calmly rather than face his wife’s wrath – but this time something urged him onwards, a desperate urge to stop her, _stop her._

He had drawn himself up to his full height, glaring down at Carla, the air he exhaled crystallising with every breath despite the warmth of their home. _You’re doing this for your daughter,_ whatever was driving him on seemed to say, _your daughter, **your daughter-**_

And then there were icicles spreading over the backs of his hands and they were twitching and he had never been violent before, never in his life, but he had to be – _Carla will stop you and stopping you means no cure and that means Caitlin sees you die and you can’t let that happen to her you can’t you can’t you can’t-_

And as if she knew she was being thought of, Caity appeared in their bedroom door and immediately the ice blue of his eyes faded, the crystals on his hands disappearing as the air became warm again. Carla had stormed past him, eyes blazing with anger, and young Caitlin had stood there looking between the two before running to Thomas and hugging him around the waist, practically having felt the emotion radiating from him.

 _Your daughter,_ the voice spoke to him again. _You have to do it for her._

\------

Following the outburst the voice started to speak to him more. One part of him said that he should stop the experiments and get help, just talk to someone, but the other said that the voice was right. All of this was for Caitlin, and he had to protect her no matter what – and then the voice was reminding him of a fact that he had somehow managed to forget.

_The doctors said that the condition could be genetic._

_You can’t protect Caity if she dies too._

From then on he was torn, he was so torn, because all of this experimentation had produced terrifying results for him but he had to help Caitlin as well. There was no way he couldn’t, and this was the only way, it had to be done to save her – but she’s only ten years old, and she’s your daughter, and you can’t drag her into this ordeal – _but you have to save her._

And so he threw himself into his work once more, becoming more secretive than ever, driven on by the voice inside of his head. He became so detached for a while, so cold, becoming like Carla was… But he had to do it.

For Caity.

\------

As he continued the experimentation he found that the voice was getting louder, more possessive and dominant – but it was always guiding. It was what kept him driven and reminded him that he had to do all of this; he had to stop the progression of his ALS, and he had to make sure that the condition could never hurt Caity too. The voice told him that he had to do this, he had to save the both of them, and that was what he was going to do.

Sometimes it became more than just the voice, though.

At times when he became frustrated or upset, wishing that all of this could have just been easier and that they could have had a happy life, the piercing blue eyes would come back. The air around him seemed to be constantly cold, much like his attitude had become as he continued to work away in solitude. At one point he found himself dipping his hand into a vat of liquid nitrogen and watching in fascination as his skin crystallised again, spreading up and over his wrist like a protective layer. When he removed his hand he caught sight of his reflection in one of the laboratory’s protective plastic shields, watching with trepidation as dark blue veins spread across his face and white streaks seemed to grow through his hair.  

_This is making you stronger, Thomas. It’s working. We’re stronger together._

Despite their argument Carla seemed to leave him alone, but he constantly felt like there was someone watching him while he worked, observing him, and the same presence seemed to be watching over Caity too. He knew he had to get his daughter away from her, that it was the only way to save her…

And so he found himself working on autopilot, inviting Caity through to see his work with a strange ice-like lilt to his voice, knowing that she could never refuse the offer.

Something was trying to break through the voice that had him on autopilot, saying that it’s not safe, she’s your daughter, you can’t do this, but as always the voice was stronger.

  _We have to save her._

\------

For quite a while it seemed like his treatment had worked, and with the intense paranoia gone the voice seemed to fade. For the first time in so long Thomas felt at peace, he genuinely felt at peace, even knowing that his condition had been slowed but not entirely stopped. That would have taken more experimentation, but right now the main focus couldn’t be him – it had to be Caitlin.

She had seemed perfectly fine for so long. Thomas had been so happy; Caitlin was fine, she would never have to go through the same debilitating condition that he was suffering from, Caitlin was going to be fine…

But then one afternoon she came home from school in tears, saying that the other children had been bullying her for reading books at break time instead of playing like everyone else did. Thomas had held her close, asking what she had done in response, but he froze up at her words.

“I-I don’t even know, dad. It was like I didn’t say anything, like another girl was talking through me… She said that the kids had to stop or that she was going to kill them.” She was speaking through sobs then, inconsolable. “I don’t want to kill anyone, dad! I don’t want to kill anyone!”

Thomas had continue to hold her in his embrace, the air around him becoming cold once more. “You won’t kill anyone, Caity. Don’t worry. You were just… Angry.”

Caitlin had stepped back, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes.

“I wasn’t angry, dad. Someone else was.”

\------

After that he continued to observe Caitlin for changes, desperation and guilt constantly playing in his mind. He tried to convince himself that this had to be done, because he couldn’t let Caitlin suffer, that he had tried to make it safe… But then another side constantly fought back, telling him that he hadn’t done enough – that he had done this to her and she was going to go through Hell because of it.

Because of him.

He had tried to pretend that everything was perfectly normal.

The two of them went stargazing, and on walks down at the beach so they could see the different types of jellyfish and molluscs; they went to the cinema to watch documentaries being screened and just tried to continue like normal.

Normal was their downfall, though.

Caitlin had dragged him out to see her ride her bike, exclaiming with glee that she could cycle with only one hand on the handlebars. She had cycled up and down the streets in their neighbourhood, with Thomas following after her, limping, but smiling all the way. “Be careful, remember,” he would call to her, grimacing every time she removed a hand. “Watch that you don’t-”

And then it had all happened so suddenly: Caitlin’s bike was toppling over and she was calling out that she was stuck, her leg was stuck and she couldn’t move, and there was a car in front of them approaching rapidly and he could hear the sound of the breaks being slammed on but it looked certain they were going to hit Caity _they were going to hit Caity-_

But then the car in front slid to a stop and he could actually focus on his daughter, and found himself working on autopilot as soon as her hands grasped for the discarded mirror on the road, telling her to don’t look please don’t look.

He had known this would happen.

He had known that she would become this.

_She’s just like us now._

It was too late and Caitlin had seen herself in the mirror, with the piercing blue eyes and the white hair and the pale skin, and she was screaming as he grasped her around the waist to drag her away from the car. He was desperately trying to get her to drop the mirror, skin crystallising where he held Caitlin close, when he made eye contact with the driver inside of the car.

She was staring down at them, not even looking fearful any more – she was just furious.

The driver had been Carla.

\------

It was Carla who wrangled the two of them back inside the house, consistently trying to comfort Caitlin while glaring at Thomas – or whatever Thomas had become – at the same time.

He had trailed along behind them, having the door slammed shut in front of him as soon as Carla got Caitlin into her bedroom. He had stood there outside, desperate to help but knowing there was no way that he would get past Carla, thoughts spiralling out of control as the voice returned once more.

I did this to her – _you did this to save her._

She’s terrified of herself _– that’s okay. She’s just like us now._

I don’t know who we are. I-I don’t even know who I am any more. _– You’re me, Thomas. And I’m you._

…But I don’t want to be you.

Shortly after that Carla had left Caitlin’s room and had forced her way past him, storming off down the stairs. He had followed her awkwardly, shuffling slightly as he made his way down the staircase, trying to ask her how Caitlin was but his words continued to go unanswered. Eventually they stopped at a standstill in the kitchen, with Carla turning to glare at him, and he found that this time the ice that threatened to overtake him couldn’t stand up to her.

“You experimented on our daughter, didn’t you?” She asked, more ice dripping from her words than there was in his own tone.

“I had to- I couldn’t let her suffer like I did, I just wanted to keep her safe…”

“You were selfish! The experiments on yourself were fair enough, you were desperate to keep yourself alive – but now on her? She’s just a child! And you turned her into a test subject, a guinea pig! She is your daughter – _our_ daughter!”

“I-It was all for her, I was just trying to keep her safe…”

“And you’ve traumatised her, turned her into something that she’s terrified of.”

Thomas couldn’t reply to that, just looking at Carla, totally defeated.

“You need to leave,” she said after that, and he had merely nodded in return.

He understood.

\------

Carla had driven him back out to the lab he had been working in. He had gathered all of the equipment he needed and then Carla had burned the place to the ground, driving away before the emergency services could arrive. He had sat there unspeaking, unthinking – just letting Carla drive.

He had tried to keep Caitlin safe.

And this was to keep her safe too, but was it?

_It’s just going to put her through all the grief that we worked so hard to avoid. We didn’t want her to suffer, Thomas. Look at how she’s going to suffer now._

But despite the voice trying to tell him that this wasn’t going to work he merely sat there, scratching at the back of his hands so fiercely that he made them bleed, desperate for the icicles to not take over. No, Carla was right. And, for once, he would stand by her decision.

Carla flew him out to one of the sites that her company owned, stating that it was completely empty due to everyone having been moved to a more modern facility. “You’re going to stay here,” she had told him, voice bleak and eyes boring into him. “You’re going to stay here until you find a way to fix this.”

And after that she had walked out, locking the doors behind her, leaving Thomas there alone.

The next day the communications system had booted up and he had answered, but as soon as he went to speak he had been cut off by the words being spoken in the background. Caity’s voice was fearful, and it sounded just above a whisper as she asked “mum, where is dad?”

Carla’s voice had a forced air of softness as she replied. “I’m so sorry, Caitlin, I really am… But your father has passed away.”

\------

Left in isolation for so long, there was nothing for Thomas to do but to continue his research. He worked to a different mantra than before, though. This time it was like a step by step checklist, one that he had to follow if he were ever to just fix this.

One. Cure your ALS.

Two. Cure the ice.

Three. Cure Caitlin.

But as time went on with no contact to the outside world, that voice inside his head became stronger again. Whenever he found himself being caught up in his guilt surrounding Caitlin he would feel his skin crystallising again and the other part of him taking over. Instead of trying to reaffirm what he was doing the voice would fight back against him now, telling him that he had failed and that Caitlin was going to be a monster forever and that there was nothing that he could do.

The voice was his only companion in the isolation of the facility, and it was driving him deeper into despair – more often than not he found himself giving into the voice, and he soon found that whenever his own personality resurfaced there were blanks in his memory from where the ice had taken over.

He knew that there was no way to stop it.

How were you supposed to stop what was inside of you, controlling you?

And as his thoughts spiralled into darkness, he gave into the ice once and for all.

\------

Carla came to visit them one last time, almost a year after she had made him disappear.

She had come to see Thomas, of course, but she was greeted by the ice instead.

Whenever he spoke it wasn’t him any more. He didn’t think of any of it, he didn’t even hear what was being said in return.

He continually asked about Caitlin, but not about Caitlin – it was always about Kione instead. His daughter of ice, she was just like she was, he wanted to see her he wanted to make sure that Kione survived instead of Caitlin, Caitlin was unnecessary and she was going to fall just like Thomas had _just like Thomas had._

Carla had looked up at him, completely resolute, as he spoke.

_“Thomas isn’t with us any more.”_

“I know.”

_“And you’re not concerned about that?”_

“No. He brought this upon himself.”

Even the ice hadn’t expected that, and he found himself staring after her as Carla walked away.

He heard the thick door being slammed shut, then being bolted from the outside as always.

Five minutes later the power went out, plunging him into darkness.

Until the backup generator kicked in there was only the piercing blue eyes and the air crystallising with every breath.

That was all that was left of him.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh man, words cannot express how much I loved that latest episode! I haven't enjoyed an episode that much since Firestorm was around. I was desperate to write something about Icicle and I haven't written anything in so long (writer's block has been hitting me hard,) so it was really great to get this written. Thank you for reading!


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